


Mud and Sand

by Tarlan



Category: Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic Park III (2001)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-07
Updated: 2007-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy makes it to the coast but has yet to reach safety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mud and Sand

**Author's Note:**

> Alan/Billy LJ challenge 'Earth'

The mud squelched between his fingers as he dug them in to the embankment, trying to gain purchase so he could haul his battered and bloodied body from the river. Ahead, he could see the tree line with glimpses of the beach beyond. He had made it to the coast but Billy knew the worst predators stayed near fresh water. He had to move away from this small river before the pack-hunting compies found him and tore him to pieces.

The beach was too open offering little protection from the sun or the carnivores so he paralleled the shore from just within the tree line, dragging his damaged leg and hoping he was not leaving a trail of blood for a pack to follow. He gave a hollow laugh because he had no means of hiding the blood scent. He could only hope the predators remained down wind of him or he was dead meat.

He had managed to lose one boot somewhere along the way but not the sock, and that had come in useful as packing for one of the deeper wounds. Hardly hygienic, he had to admit but better than bleeding out. A mixture of sand and loamy soil pushed between his toes with each step, the occasional sharp thorn barely noticeable against the sharper pains of his injuries.

The noises were faint at first, barely registering except at a primitive level and yet he felt drawn to them, moving closer rather than shying away in fear. As he drew closer, the sounds became voices.

"Alan!" he whispered. It had to be Alan. His heart thumped harder in his chest and he pushed onwards, breaking through the tree line and taking half a dozen steps upon the sandy beach before freezing.

One soldier turned, gun raised while the others continued to monitor the tiny pack of compies that chattered ahead of them. The tableau froze and then, one by one, the compies set their beady eyes upon him. Billy took a step back in terror as the first of the creatures raced beneath the legs of a soldier and headed straight for him. It exploded in a hail of bullets barely ten feet away, blood and guts erupting across the fine sand. The staccato of more gunfire added more blood scent to the air and Billy yelled in fear as something grabbed him by both arm and ankle. Pain flared as sharp claws sunk into his leg but the Compsognathus squawked as it was kicked away by the soldier holding his upper arm.

The battle across the beach was a haze of blood and bullets and then he was in the air, memories of the pteranodon trying to lift him to its eyrie returning like a sucker punch.

"Alan!" He gripped the battered hat tighter, refusing to let go. "Alan," he called again, pitifully. He should have told him how much he loved him. He should have made his move.

He prayed it wasn't too late.

END


End file.
